


Heirs of Erebor

by Madame_Xela



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Family Dynamics, Gen, Pre-Smaug, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Xela/pseuds/Madame_Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heirs of Erebor are well behaved dwarflings, I swear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heirs of Erebor

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I don't write things at three in the morning....

Thráin, son of Thrór, had three charming children. Thorin, Frerin, and Dís.

Thorin: the heir. Strong and loyal and smarter than most dwarfs.

Frerin: the youngest prince and middle child. Adventurous and creative and a peacekeeper.

Dís: The baby and the princess. Kind and sensible and always there to put her brothers in their place.

Really, they were perfect and well behaved royals…

“FRERIN YOU ELF-SHAGGER, GIVE IT BACK!”

“I NEED IT MORE! DO YOU SEE THIS BEARD?! IT NEEDS TO BE WELL MANTIANED!”

“YOU’RE FACE IS AS SMOOTH AS A BABE’S ARSE!”

Stepping into the room, Thorin addressed his siblings. “ _What_ are you two doing?!” Little Dís’ head whipped in his direction, her dark braids smacking her face. She looked murderous. Frerin looked no better. The fur on his coat was wild, and his braids were mused from running.

“Thorin! He took my special brush!”

Thorin raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Did you?”

“It doesn’t count as taking it from her if she left it on her vanity!”

“YOU WENT IN MY ROOM TO GET IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

“Well _you_ went into my room and took my good knife! It’s strapped to your belt!” The younger two launched at each other. Biting, clawing, pulling, punching. Anything to get their stuff from the other.

Sighing, Thorin stepped in between his two siblings. “There is clearly one solution here.” He said diplomatically. His siblings glared, expecting an answer that would get them their belongings back. Thorin opened his mouth to speak and…snatched the comb from Frerin’s hand and broke the knife off of his sister’s belt and ran.

Frerin and Dís chased him from room to room, screaming profanities that only made the prince cackle. The further they ran Dís realized where Thorin was heading and grabbed the back of Frerin’s tunic to make him stop.

“ _WHAT_ , Dís?!”

“I know where he’s going! And I know a short cut!”

*

Playing keep away was no fun when the ~~victims~~ _other_ _players_ gave up. With a sigh Thorin made his way his chambers.

They were warm when he walked through the door. Oh, he must have started a fire that morning. He couldn’t remember lighting a fire though…

“ATTACK!”

Dís jumped on his back. Her shorter legs had trouble wrapping around his waist (it was the damned dress! The blue fabric kept bunching and getting in the way!) so without much though she reached up and grabbed his braids, pulling them like one would the reigns of a pony.

“ACK! DIS GET OFF!”

“FRERIN GET THE LOOT!”

Before his brother could get close enough, Thorin put the ‘treasure’ in one hand and held them high above his head. This didn’t stop Frerin. Oh no, a prince did not give up that easily! The smaller dwarf climbed up his brother, hooking his thumb in Thorin’s mouth and pulling his eyelid down, and tried to force his brother’s arm down.

What a sight they made! Entirely uncivilized! Not at all like the _proper_ royals that they were.

“What in Aulë’s name are you three doing?” There in the doorway was their father, his advisor Balin, and their mother. Thráin and Balin frowned. Their mother hid a smile behind her hand. “ _Well_?”

That one word (more like an order, really) put an end to their little game. Dís and Frerin jumped off of their brother with a scowl and a pout on their faces respectably. Thorin had the audacity to look smug as he hid the comb and the knife behind his back.

“Papa, Thorin took my comb! Make him give it back!”

“What?!”

“YEAH! And he took my special knife!”

“ _You_ _two_ were fighting over them! I was merely helping you, you brats!”

“I want my comb Thorin!”

As the children fought, Balin looked to the older Prince and Princess, his dear friends, and sent them an exasperated grin. “Still want more M’lord and Lady?”

The Princess grinned back. “Only if you’re willing to watch them!”

“Mahal help me! You lot will be the death of me!” The Princess and Balin laughed at Thráin’s back even as he took the stolen items from his eldest son and gave them to their respective owners. The younger two ran off after their belongings were handed to them followed shortly by Thorin (“I’ll just…err…go.”).

“And to think they are the future of Erebor.”


End file.
